Worship It
by nakedpie
Summary: "Kneel." The impact left a darker red mark on his already flushed cheeks and MacCoy swallowed thickly as a heavy weight dropped to the pit of his stomach.


**This is a really old fic that never made it to .**

Heavy beads of sweat clung to his body as he crouched down, letting the music die out on its own,

and took another swig of his water—releasing that trademark 'ahhhh'.

Heels clacked on the

wooden floor behind him and blue eyes rolled, the B-boy ignoring the being behind him for fear

that it was Aubrey there to nag him about sweating all over the studio floor. He could feel the

heat of grey-green eyes burning the back of his head and muttered a weary, "Go'way, 'Brey."

The voice answered him. "Ya answer ta me."

The deep voice was more than a couple octaves lower than a woman's, especially one

as feminine as Aubrey's.

Turning on the pad of his foot, allowing his knee pad to hit the floor, he

pivoted his body towards the male in question. "Mo?"

Amber eyes found a comical expression on the top rocker's face, whom was frantically swiping a

sleeve at his goggles and repositioning them. The prankster stood proudly, one hip cocked out

with a hand resting firmly on it. He'd grown a couple more inches, as evidenced by the bright

yellow heels adorning his feet; MacCoy didn't know they sold them in a size that large.

His eyes traveled from the golden hem of the dress up and stayed firmly planted on the low

waist-line, admiring the delicacy of the beads stitched into the off-ivory bodice. Eyes caught

sight of the fan flickering back and forth lazily, cooling the other off and adding a sort of aloof

perfection to the outfit.

Closing the ruffled object abruptly, Mo straightened up as he allowed his arm to gracefully float

back down to his hip, beckoning the goggled dancer over with the crook of a gloved finger.

MacCoy eyed him carefully one last time, taking in every detail, planning his course of action

and admiring the unexpected and more than pleasant surprise.

"Don't keep me waitin'." the down rocker commanded, deep voice sending hard chills riding over

'Coy's spine.

"Well damn, I didn't know ya were gonna take me seriously, "he purred, sauntering closer

towards the other with a sharp smile plastered across his features.

Mo seemed to ignore the comment, peering down at the Russian with eyes of indifference.

MacCoy gasped in surprise when Mo slapped away the hand with the length of the fan when

pale fingers trailed a strong jawline.

"Kneel." he ordered, dark amber eyes hardening his tone.

A golden brow arched in bemusement and the flat of the fan met his cheek once more.

"Kneel."

The impact left a darker red mark on his already flushed cheeks and MacCoy swallowed thickly

as a heavy weight dropped to the pit of his stomach.

He quickly dropped to his knees, hands hanging limp by his sides and peered up at the other

with an expectant look.

MacCoy nearly purred when Mo's fingers trailed up his throat and to the point of his chin, thumb

running the length of his lips. The feeling of satin dipping into his mouth and pressing against

his tongue caused blue eyes to flutter closed, Mo scoffing at saliva soaking his gloves before

wrenching the Russian's jaw open.

"Worship it".

The fan flickered alive again , lust-filled eyes mesmerized by the swift motion it made when

opened and licked his lips, anxiously awaiting another slap.

Surprise took him when Mo gingerly guided his head closer to his crotch, the B-boy caught

on fast and hiked the robin egg blue fabric past black stockings, scrunching it into his fists

before feeling silk trail up his forearm and release him of it. Marveling at lace panties, a pair

seemingly transparent until further inspection revealed more.

MacCoy eagerly pulled them down, Mo's thighs shaking from the feeling. The toprocker lifted

his head to make a smartass remark at the B-boy who's head was leaning slightly back against

the glass behind him until Mo glared down at him.

"Boy ya best get back ta work."

The sudden feel of wet fabric shocked Mo and he held his fan close to his face, hiding his breaking

character from MacCoy—who smiled and kissed his navel in appreciation of the effort.

One hand worked stockings off Mo's leg, massaging a toned calf while a free hand gripped

Mo's shaft. His thumb and index finger pulled down and apart on the sensitive head of his

dick, precum leaking out onto his knuckles.

Pink lips touched the base of Mo's dick, his mouth

sucking up the side of his length, latching onto velvety skin and working it under pressure.

Fingers switched from their place behind Mo's knee to the studs in his hips and the princess

stumbled back.

The heels he was wearing clacked loudly, echoing throughout the room, and 'Coy eagerly

chased after his princess on his knees. A slick muscle traced up a thick vein to the swollen

head, senses tingling from the taste of Mo before thick lips soaked with precum and saliva

covered his dick. A freckled hand pumped him to a rhythm, into his mouth, head bobbing

at a different interval. He peered up at Mo, who was glancing off to the side, gloved hand

still fanning away at himself, though faster with lips twitching.

MacCoy needed Mo to look at him, he wanted him to watch him as he swallowed. Skillful

hands kneaded a ball sack, Mo tightening in his hands. He caught his attention however,

light eyes trained on him as he hollowed his cheeks with one final, desperate suck. Dark hands

sifted through golden locks lovingly, petting back bangs that fell into his face before topaz watched

sapphires close from the affection before widening in surprise as blond locks were gripped and

roughly yanked back.

Mo came in spurts, mostly over freckled cheeks and across MacCoy's

open mouth, some splattering on his tongue. He swiped the head over the slicked 'O' of his

mouth before placing one last kiss to the tip, loving the feeling of Mo quaking under him

under him while trying to remain collected despite his ministrations.

Pulling back with patience he glanced up at a glossy-eyed Mo, licking his lips with a devilish smile.

Mo gave himself a couple more deep breaths, while 'Coy's hands traced his own thighs, fingers

playing with the zipper of his khaki pants.

Ass using the rail for support, he bent slightly, still light-headed in his post-orgasm haze, lifting

MacCoy's chin up with the tip of his fan. He didn't try his voice at first until after he swallowed

the words of praise he nearly spilled.

"Clean yourself up."

MacCoy obeyed, fingers swiping what cum that was left behind into his mouth; his pants were

already undone and he stroked his inner thigh, winking when Mo blew him a kiss. He watched

in bewilderment as Mo left, never looked back, but kept his gold-trimmed fan ever present.


End file.
